Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

I was a teenager when the first Indiana Jones movie came out. I was working at summer camp, and one of my fellow counselors spent the whole summer wearing an Indy fedora and carrying around a fake whip. We were all a bit obsessed. I loved all three of the movies, so I have anxiously been waiting for the latest installment. In recent weeks, Hubby and I have shared the original trilogy with Princess and Sonny Boy since this was all new to them.

I was not disappointed Sunday afternoon when we saw the movie. I know everyone keeps talking about how old Harrison Ford is (I think he's 65), but that man can still kick butt. Shia Lebouf is always fantastic - a very gifted young actor (so hard to believe he got his start on a Nick kids' show). Cate Blanchett - never wrong. And it was so great to see Karen Allen again. And it was really great to see Ford and Allen looking age appropriate - not like a weird Martian with elongated eyes (that was another character in the movie).

The movie was just all out fun. The storyline was interesting; not as compelling as the first or third movie - but still entertaining. I liked the conspiracy mythology thrown in. The action was great. Do you remember how Indy liked to climb in and out of vehicles while socking the bad guys? Look for one scene with this which also involves a motorcycle. One of my favorites in the movie. One thing I enjoyed as well was that the characters were growing up and dealing with life. Life goes on and people have to live it - one way or the other. It was nice seeing old friends live their lives, battle the bad guys, and have a great adventure while doing it.

My grade - B

Sonny Boy was right

On a fairly regular basis, Sonny Boy greets me at the end of the day with, "You won't believe what ridiculous thing they made us to at school today!" It is usually just normal school stuff, but Friday was different.

"Well, you know we have those stupid EOGs next week (for the uninitiated - End of Grade tests that the state (read - bunch of older white male lawyers) makes the schools give out to see if children should pass or not - because they seem to think that qualified, hard-working and underpaid teachers don't seem to know if a child should pass a grade or not; and also - why not make a little 3rd (or 5th or 8th) grader freak out and be unable to sleep because of sitting for 2 hours a day filling in circles on a scan card?)?
So - today, we had a pep rally for the EOGs. We all went to the football stadium and they tried to get us to chant "EOG!" and do the wave with EOG. Then they gave us all these tshirts that said "Rock the Test," and the teachers were laying on the field spelling out "Rock the Test" and then they tried to get us to chant "Rock the Test." But we all thought it was pretty stupid and just a few nerds were the only ones who did the chants a little bit."

After I stopped laughing, I responded, "You're right. That was ridiculous."

Mother's Day Poem

Here is the poem Sonny Boy wrote for me for Mother's Day. I have kept the spelling as is, and "pom" stands for pomengranate.

She is like the fruit, wonderful pom
but I just like to call her mom.
Sometimes she can be a bit of a hastle
but she is as great as a wonderful castle.
She is one of the greatest people alive
if she died I would stick my head in a beehive.
I love my mom and that's all I have to say
except Happy Mother's Day!

In Memory of Dr. James E. Hull

Here is an article from the Gboro newspaper. It's about a very influential man in my life - one of my college professors, Dr. Jim Hull. Dr. Hull was a religion professor for many years at Greensboro College. As a religion major there from 1985-89, I came to know him well. I thought I would go on and get a Ph.d. and teach religion at a college somewhere. He kept saying, "Lassie, perhaps God wants you to go in the ministry." He continually introduced me to women who were ministers (my first encounter with clergywomen, because there just were not that many). He helped me explore Divinity School options (which I would go to regardless of an academic or ministerial life). Dr. Hull was a very strong support - always listening to any problems I had and encouraging me that God had great plans for me. He is certainly one of the major reasons I am in my chosen profession.

Dr. Hull also performed the marriage ceremony for Hubby and me 19 1/2 years ago. He will always be fondly remembered as a very important person for me personally. I hope that in all my years of working with college students, I might can attempt to be the same kind of person he was for me and for so many countless others over the years.

Princess to the Rescue

I had what I believe was a combination cold/allergy episode a few days ago. My voice was fairly scratchy on Wednesday, and then by Thursday morning I was teaching my class in a very loud whisper. After that, the voice was almost completely gone. It's been over three years since I last lost my voice. Never fun. I had a co-worker call Hubby to tell him not to call - I couldn't talk at all. (I thought I would act preemptively, since Hubby loves to call and just say hi.) A couple hours after that I was sitting in my office (all by my lonesome) when the phone rang. Princess was home from school. She didn't know my voice was gone, but I was hoping I could croak out a loud whisper, "Voice! Lost!"



I answered and attempted the two words. She kept asking "what?" and I kept trying to no avail. I then tried, "Call Daddy." She heard daddy (being the Daddy's girl she is, I should not be surprised) and hung up the phone.



Within two minutes my cell rang again, and it was Hubby. I answered the phone and said nothing - he knew I couldn't talk. He said, "Princess called and said that you were really upset. That you'd lost something. What's wrong."



"LOST! VOICE!"



Hubby had a good laugh and hung up.

I hate Guitar Hero III

Sonny Boy is pretty good with money. He knows how to save for things he wants and how to find good deals. This is a feat most adults have not accomplished, so I'm quite proud of him. Today, he accomplished his goal of acquiring a used PS2 version of Guitar Hero III. For those without a teen, it is a video game where you hold a plastic guitar and follow the "chords"/color-coded keys while strumming a white switch at the same time when the screen indicates that color. It also tells you the duration to hold the color coded key.

GHIII has a number of songs from the hair bands of the '80s - my kind of music. When Sonny Boy's buddy, TC, was here today, I even bragged that I could "kick his behind" in GH. (Yes, I really did say that, and I was pleased that I substituted *&#! with behind - my competitive spirit is a bit much at times).

Turns out if you don't do the chords exactly right, the convicts at the concert start booing you. And if you miss enough notes in a row, they riot and your song is over. This has happened through five songs now - 4 '80s hair band rockers and The Killers' When You Were Young. I could understand why guitarists smash their guitars during a concert.

Plus the fact that my tendonitis (which so far is surviving a new tennis season) is now hurting once again. Guess I need to go get some gin soaked raisins and get my "behind" to bed.

Bad Mood

What does it mean when someone is in a bad mood for two weeks straight? And even the return of Moonlight, Robin Hood, and the presence of a homemade carrot cake doesn't quite get rid of the bad mood monster?

Someone please tell me when I am too old to drive...

One of my favorite things to do on Saturday mornings is to head to Greensboro's downtown farmer's market. I love to buy locally and fresh. I usually see some people I know. It's really a pleasant experience and a stress reliever.

This past Saturday I pulled off Yanceyville (a four lane road) onto the street for the market and then took an immediate left into the parking lot. A car was in front of me. I assumed the older woman driver was waiting on a parking space. The minutes began to tick by and cars began to pile up behind me - about 10 at my last count. Yanceyville Street was enduring a good little traffic jam. The woman was stopped right in the middle, so I could not drive around her. I didn't blow my horn, because she was an older woman and I didn't want to be rude. Then I saw a passenger from a few cars back knock on the woman's door, obviously pointing out the serious traffic problem she was causing. I saw a couple empty spaces off to the right, and when the woman still didn't move, I assumed she was waiting for someone. Then a parked car to the left of the lot left, and I pulled in. One less car, I thought, for the big traffic jam.

I then strolled through the market, and while standing at the freshly picked strawberries, an older lady came up to me and said, "You took my place." I was confused, and said, "Excuse me?" "You know what I'm talking about! Out in the parking lot! I'd been waiting for that space!!" A couple people were looking at us. "Mam, you had been waiting for about 10 minutes and had ignored a couple empty spaces, so I thought you didn't want to park - that you were waiting for someone. There was a big traffic jam." "You did not think that! You know exactly what was going on!" "Mam, I assure you that is not the case. I'm sorry for any inconvience I caused you." As she walked past me she hissed very loudly, "A*#+hole!!!"

I was rather stunned, to say the least. No one has ever called me that before (at least to my face), and I honestly thought I was doing the right thing. Mom reminded me that young people who are mean usually turn out to be old people who are mean. Be that as it may, someone just please tell me when I am too old to drive.

A Champion is Crowned

If you recall, I was woefully ignorant of College Men's Hoops this year, and chose to spend my madness in March with the Fug Girls. The Champion was crowned yesterday - the person who dresses the fugliest of all. Check out this link for a sappy tournament retro look.

A Very Special Kind of Prayer

This post is for my family (nuclear, origin, and extended) who mostly seem fairly interested in bodily functions.


In preparing to teach my World Religions class, I ran across this segment on the topic of Judaism. Jews are expected to give thanks continually, and there are blessings for many of the everyday actions of life, like taking a drink of water. Below is the blessing to be recited after using the toilet:


Blessed art thou, our God, Ruler of the Universe, who hast formed (human) beings in wisdom, and created in them a system of ducts and tubes. It is well known before they glorious throne that if but one of these be opened, or if one of those be closed, it would be impossible to exist in thy presence. Blessed art thou, O God, who healest all creatures and doest wonders.

Hot for Teacher

Sonny Boy and I had dinner together last night, and this is the conversation we had:

Sonny Boy: The really hot student teacher is back in Language Arts. She'll be there the rest of the year!

Mom: Really?

SB: Yeah! I kept raising my hand and participating a whole lot in class.

Mom: More than you normally you do?

SB: Oh yeah! Everyone was kinda laughing at me because they know I don't usually do that. And she even knows my name 'cause I was doing so good in class. She said she really likes to read and asked if I liked to read. And I said yeah I really like to read, even though everyone knows I can't stand it.

Mom: Yes, I know dear. You have told me that enough to fill a book by Tolstoy.

SB: So she asked me what my favorite book was and I told her To Kill a Mockingbird. She didn't know I had to read it for class last year.

Mom: Or that I had to explain much of it to you?

SB: (continuing to ignore me and grinning rather widely) She was real impressed that was my favorite book. I told her I really liked non-fiction, real type stories.

Mom: Why didn't you choose a different book that you've read?

SB: I know that would be the most impressive one!

Mom: Well, honey if this is what it takes to get you to put forth your best effort in school...

SB: Man, I wish all my teachers were so hot. I'd make straight As.

Torchwood

I've always loved sci-fi shows - anything that's a little different, with lots of great action, some camp, and interesting stories. BBC America has one of the best ones out there right now - Torchwood. It's a spin-off of the newly revamped Dr. Who (quite good itself). Captain Jack Harkness (center) is the leader of a current day team based in Cardiff, Wales that monitors a time riff and fights aliens. Good stuff! You see, everything changes in the early 21st century, and the Torchwood team is there to do what they can to save the world. Captain Jack is a mysterious, charming man from some other time (and maybe another planet). He leads former cop Gwen (the heart of the team), tech expert Toshiko, doctor Owen, and everything guy Ianto.

Torchwood comes on 9pm Saturdays, with the former week's episode at 8pm. Check out the site and let me know what you think!

Winning Dirty

For many years I have been impressed with Brad Gilbert's ideas on winning tennis dirty. It doesn't mean unfairly - it just means you do whatever it takes (within the rules). This is especially effective when one's mental prowess and tennis IQ are limited by lack of physical attributes. It's my mantra.


I played the other night for the first time in 3 months. With my spring league, there are 2 doubles courts and 1 singles. I gladly took the singles because I didn't want to have to keep apologizing to my partner for incredibly poor and rusty play. And rusty it was. A few shots pleased me - but I mainly just tried to keep the ball in play. It was nighttime, and I started using the lob a whole lot, hoping that my opponent would lose the ball in the lights (and she did a few times). Dirty.


After the match (which I did win!), I was talking with some of my teammates and a couple young guys who are pros. We discussed strategy and interacting with your opponent. I commented, "If I think she's not calling the lines that accurately, I always ask her what she does for a living during changeover, and then I volunteer that I'm a minister. People hate to lie to a minister." One of the pros responded, "Man - that is a great strategy! I'm gonna start doing that." One of my teammates then said, "But she really is a minister."


Kinda fun to see the looks on the guys' faces. But they did agree that saying you're a minister (whether it's true or not) is a pretty good way to win dirty.

What is Black Liberation Theology?

I haven't had the surprise and fear many white Americans have felt from the sermons by Barack Obama's minister. I also realize I have academic training that prepares me to hear a message coming out of liberation theology, particularly black liberation theology. I was going to give some basics explaining this theology, but I found a lecture online from a local professor that explains it far better than I could. It doesn't take long to read - I hope you'll make the time to learn about something so important and crucial.

And I'd like to say another word about not agreeing with someone you love. My brother and I don't discuss politics on a deep level - we need to stick to television reruns. I love him - he will always be my family. But I know he would not understand why Sonny Boy and I stood in the wind and rain for an hour and a half last night protesting the war in Iraq. And that's fine. My brother is a good person and I respect him even if we don't agree on politics.

And as a minister, I would also like to say that I would be fearful if I had a parishioner who totally agreed with everything I ever said in a sermon. I hope my sermons will provoke thought and faith development - but we are all unique people and need to think for ourselves. A minister is a spiritual advisor, not a cult leader who insists on complete uniformity.

5th Anniversary of War in Iraq

Today is the 5th anniversary of the war in Iraq. My thoughts and prayers go out to all who have been impacted by this war - the 4000 US soldiers who have died, the thousands of others who have come home with serious physical and mental disabilities, the tens of thousands of Iraqis who have lost their lives, the Iraqis living with violence and fear each day, and all the many loved ones who are affected by loss and pain.

Alternative March Madness

I don't know what has happened to me. I used to be so obsessed with Men's Division I College Hoops. When we were forced to move down to the NC flatlands almost three years ago, one of the positives was being in the heart of ACC territory. I once even told someone (not really joking) that College bball was one of the glues of my marriage. I was even at Duke for the backtoback championships in '91,'92. I do a tourney bracket every year, and the last time Duke won, I only missed calling 8 games. What has happened to me?

I don't know. I do know I have watched the least amount of Div I ball that I have watched in probably 25 years. I just don't care. I mean - yeah, I hope the ACC does well in the tourney. And VT really should have gotten in (at least, that's what Hubby says - I don't have enough info to know for myself). But I didn't even watch tv last night to see my man - Jay Bilas - give his predictions for the field. No bracket this year - I have no clue what's going on.

But - there is another March Madness for which I am well informed to participate. The Fug Girls are doing Fug Madness - four brackets of the fugliest dressed celebrities and pseudo-celebrities that you can hope to find. Their brackets are already up (play in game is Tues), and I am ready to roll. I think I will be quite successful in my predictions in this particular madness.

14 Years Ago

14 years ago I was in Mission Hospital in Asheville. I had been there since about 2am, when we thought Sonny Boy would be arriving in the next few hours. His beautiful round head, broad shoulders, and fat little baby body ensured that he did not actually arrive until the evening of the 13th. It was a Sunday - why am I always working on Sundays?

Hubby and I called my parents when we went to the hospital. They wanted to be there when their first grandchild arrived. My younger brother Jerry was supposed to take Granny to church that morning, and we would call when Caleb finally arrived on the scene.

For many hours, contractions kept coming about every 5 minutes. I was so into natural childbirth because I thought it was the best for my baby. If I ever did it again, I'd think - who cares! give me some drugs! - but that was then. So, Hubby and I kept walking around while I kept having contractions. We walked several times out to the lobby where my parents patiently waited. About mid-morning, I noticed Jerry and Granny had arrived. I turned to Mom, "I thought they were going to church." I then paused to have a contraction.

Neither Granny nor Jerry spoke to me, but Granny walked to Mom and said, "Jackie, give Amy some lipstick! I think it'd make her feel better."

What a nice memory.

Learned something new

The time change always just kills me in the Springtime. I really like my sleep. I don't sleep well most the time. Every single extra hour is of great importance. So, I really hate having to "spring forward" and lose an hour of sleep.



I did make the executive decision that we would skip Sunday School this past Sunday morning. Sonny Boy was very happy, and I'm not sure Princess noticed. All four of us filed into the usual pew, with me in between Hubby and Princess. There wasn't much room on the pew that day, so I was pretty close to Hubby. I really could not keep my eyes open. I leaned against him so I wouldn't fall forward as I kept dozing off. I know he thought I just wanted to be close to him (and he can keep thinking that). After a fairly long prayer, I just kept my eyes closed. I was in church, after all. Wouldn't people just think I was still praying, really communing with God? I would open my eyes on occasion throughout the service so I wouldn't get in too deep a sleep. I think no one noticed.



Except Princess. Towards the end of the service, she poked my arm pretty hard during a short doze. I opened my eyes quickly and she smirked at me. Takes one to know one.

Are you smarter than an 8th grader?

I apparently am not.

Last night I was walking up the stairs while Sonny Boy was walking down them. We decided to play chicken, and after a minute or so of dodging each other to get by and laughing, I said, "You may be taller than I am now, but I still weigh more!"

He responded, "Mom, that's nothing to brag about."

I let him by and popped him on the behind as he went down the stairs.

My Days

I'm a mean, lean demerit machine...